


Professor Potter

by dracoluv



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Children are Put into Danger, Draco is on the Good Side Now, F/M, Fluff, I think there's one actually explicit scene, M/M, New Age Deatheaters, Professor Draco, Professor Harry, Teacher Draco, Teacher Harry, it's good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoluv/pseuds/dracoluv
Summary: Harry has been wasting away his life doing what he has no passion to do. He's fallen into a depression that isolated him from his close friends. Now, he's decided to take a job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, but no good thing comes without a price because, of course, Draco Malfoy already teaches there.Nothing can ever be simple at Hogwarts - especially if Harry's involved. So when students start to disappear, it seems that Harry is going to have to do what he does best - save the day.





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, its settings, themes, or characters. I simply own the plot that I’ve created for JK Rowling’s world in this little fanfic.  
______________________________

The night was cold and the air would not settle. Harry found himself peering out the window, yet again, hoping for some sign of peace in the air. A breath escaped from his shaky frame, causing a cloud to form over the paned glass. Howling wind kept his eyes alert on the gray outside.   
He was seated on a nook by a window that overlooked his property. There were red cushions beneath him and shelves of books all around him. The room itself was a grand library. One that distinctly resembled that of Belle’s from Beauty in the Beast. Harry suspected that was his mother’s design. After all, the house had been hers and his father’s long before it was ever Harry’s.   
After the war, Harry had been issued a summons from a Ministry Official who was overlooking the vaults at Gringotts for any misdoings. They had called him to the bank to test blood for a seal on one of the locked vaults. Surprisingly, it had opened, revealing more of his parents’ fortune. Within the vault were also some filing systems that were distinctly muggle, another touch of Lily’s, Harry was sure, that held the information and deeds to several properties owned by the Potters. James having been the heir and patriarch had complete control over them. Since their deeds had been secure for the past two decades, they were still set aside, in tact.   
Harry had chosen to stay in a humble manor that was out of the public’s eye. After the war, Harry had suffered major psychological trauma, which led to him having to seclude himself from most. He had gone through the awards ceremonies and constant public awareness first, just to be sure he would be left alone once his mind came apart.  
It had come slowly. The dreams were first, though they had never really lightened up. These dreams, however, were not caused by Voldemort, but, rather, they were caused by the gore and utter madness that Harry had had to endure throughout the first seventeen years of his life. Just his vicious muggle upbringing would have been enough to crack most, but Harry had seen worse, and his mind would not let him forget it.  
Next, came the bouts with consciousness. It began with short moments of black when Harry would stand too quickly, or when he found himself a bit stressed. They slowly built to days when Harry simply could not stand without losing sight of those around him.  
Lastly, and almost worst of all, Harry would have moments where his mind would deceive him. He would look into the eyes of those he loved and see the monster who tried to take his life. He would hear a dog’s bark and swear that the werewolves were upon him once again. He simply could not escape the constant flashes of the war that interrupted his daily thoughts. It cost him his family.  
Harry had been quite happy to try to settle down like Ron and Hermione had after the war, but he could not recover as they had. It was easy to see the rift that come between him and the friends he had spent his life with. None of them had truly faced what he had. None of them had been killed only to return to life twice. None of them were as completely alone in their struggle as he. When he had his bouts, even Ginny could not calm him. She had taken it as an insult to their love and had broken off their engagement. She could not be with someone who could not even trust her to tell the truth. It had been the last straw for Harry.  
He had moved to the secluded property after that. He seldom had visitors. His nurse, however, had been quite taken with the Savior and had forced him into letting her stay in the manor with him. After all, what if he had a bout in the night? Or if he found himself apart from his wand and unable to communicate? Harry just had to oblige.  
He did have a few stable visitors, however. Over the past couple of years, during their summers away from teaching, Headmaster McGonagall, the now-Professor Longbottom, and even the Gameskeeper Hagrid had taken to visiting on a sort of rotating schedule. They kept Harry regular company, and watched over him just as they had in his school years. For that, Harry would always be grateful.  
During the school year, however, Harry found himself with a scarce visitor. He knew that it hurt Ginny too much to visit her once-fiance, so he did not hold it against her. However, it hurt that Hermione and Ron could only spare a few hours one weekend out of the month to floo over. They were all in their twenties, now, and busy with life. Ron had become an Auror after four years of rigorous training after his eighth year graduation. Hermione had gone to university and accomplished a Law degree in the same time. She was now one of the main prosecuting attorneys in the Ministry and would soon make her way to Deputy Head if she remained focused. They had married two years after graduation. Harry was their best man.  
Now, though, he found himself in the company of few. Once a week on Wednesday he would receive an owl from Luna, requesting to see him, to which he would unlock the floo and she would come through. Once a month she even brought the rest of her new family. She had married a man by the name of Rolf Scamander and had two infant children, twins named Lorcan and Lysander. They were a lovely bunch and Harry was glad to have them in his life.   
Other than Luna, Harry received occasional visits from some of his old friends out of what he had assumed to be pity. Seamus would come about once a month on Monday nights with Dean. The couple often talked Quidditch and work with Harry, keeping small talk over tea rather than digging in deep. Harry was not one for banter, but it eased the woe in his heart a little to watch them smile. Cho visited him around the holidays, always bringing news about strange inventions she had learned about in the muggle world. Her husband was a muggle and she was proud of it. She often thanked Harry for making their love possible. Little things like that made all of his suffering worth it.   
Through the last five years, nearly all of the survivors of the war, save Slytherins and some of the more aloof Ravenclaws had passed through his room at some point. But Harry could feel the weight of the depression that had set in his heart growing daily as less and less would show. His nurse would often flit about him on his lonely days, trying to get him to smile. She would flirt or create small talk or just make a fool of herself in an attempt to make Harry feel, but it was lost. Harry was twenty-two and alone in his heart.  
He hardly spoke anymore. In fact, the only reason he had to speak was company. Even that was growing scarce. The month of October came and passed with visits only from Luna, who came every Wednesday. Then November came and went, Seamus and Dean showing up one day to spice up his visits with Luna. December came and Harry had visits from Luna as well as Cho. On Christmas, he received an owl from Hermione and Ron, written in Hermione’s script, with wishes of happiness and of love. Harry had sent them both gifts, as well as Luna and the boys, Cho, Seamus, Dean, his nurse, Neville, McGonagall, and Hagrid. He was in tears when the last one was sent back. No note except the little stamp from the ministry deceased.  
He had never had a worst Christmas.  
It was late May when Harry received the little pink envelope from Hermione and Ron, they were expecting a little girl. He was invited to their Baby Shower. Harry dressed for the occasion, bought a collection of talking books for the darling, and arrived at the party early to drop them off. He was weak, and was only able to congratulate his two best friends, handing them the heavy present, before he was escorted back home by his ever faithful nurse. His last glance at his friends saw Hermione with a tear in her eye, Ron comforting her.  
Harry had watched the world around him move on from the war. He could see all of his friends had grown and were starting families. Seamus had informed him at their last meet that Ginny seemed to have settled down with Neville, whom had confessed his attraction to her that persisted from the Yule Ball. They had been dating since January.   
Harry felt more alone than ever that summer, when only McGonagall visited. Neville was likely with Ginny, and Hagrid was no longer around. He could see the deep lines set in her face. She had felt the impact of the war. Harry could not fathom how someone could attempt to fill the robes of Albus Dumbledore, but McGonagall was trying her hardest.   
She told him about the new professors at the school, and the ones lost. He was surprised at how many names he recognized from the list. Old schoolmates were once again walking the halls of Hogwarts. It made Harry bow his head. It was one of the pathways he had considered taking after he failed his mental health exam at Auror Training. He had been able to complete his degree in Defense Against the Dark Arts from the comfort of his own home over the last few years, and even had a certificate to teach the subject, but he would not bring himself to make such a request of the Headmaster. She had more than enough to deal with without him around.  
However, Harry was shocked when she made the offer herself. “Mr. Potter, it seems we are short a professor yet again this year. I have on good authority that you, indeed, have a teaching degree?” Harry nodded his head at the professor, trying to keep his eyes from lighting up in excitement. “I know it is a lot to ask of you, Mr. Potter, and I know that the world has asked far too much of you already, but would you ever consider teaching at Hogwarts?” McGonagall asked, duty to her students and Gryffindor pride being the only motivation to keep her head high at the request.  
At Harry’s response, she lost the calm mask on her features and lit up a smile, “Mr. Potter, would you repeat that? I need to be sure my old ears are not playing tricks on me, now.”   
“Of course, Professor,” Harry grinned, pride shining in his emerald eyes, “I would be honored.” McGonagall hugged the boy close, stroking his raven locks a bit like a mother would her child, “I am so proud of you, my boy. There’s no one better to teach Defense than you.”  
Harry stood up, a feat he had not been able to complete without his nurse in quite a while, his shoulders back, “Of course,” Harry grinned, “I must ask, of course, who the Head of Houses are, considering the recent deaths,” he asked, eyes clouding over at the last word.  
“Hufflepuff has Professor Justin Finch-Fletchy, Care of Magical Creatures. Ravenclaw has Professor Marietta Edgecomb, Charms, and Slytherin is being led by Professor Draco Malfoy, Potions. Then, if you would accept, Gryffindor could have you, Professor Harry Potter of Defense Against the Dark Arts or would have Professor Neville Longbottom of Herbology. However, I have already approached Professor Longbottom on the matter, and he seems reluctant to take the charge.” Harry nodded at this, understanding Neville’s standoffish nature. He was probably content in his greenhouse.  
“I would gladly accept the charge.” Harry nodded, his words appearing in front of him. “So witnessed, so done,” Headmaster McGonagall nodded, the words flashing once before the spell bound.  
“Headmaster, would it be alright for Rosie to come with me? I find I fare better with her around,” Harry asked, gesturing to his nurse, who stopped and blushed at the request.   
“Of course Mr. Potter, assuming she has no problem helping Poppy?” Rosie shook her head, happy to rejoin her mentor, “After all, a good Hufflepuff such as her will do good to calm Poppy’s Gryffindor spirit from time to time. I fear the woman is getting just a bit too stubborn with her patients,” McGonagall winked, causing Harry to laugh.   
“Thank you so much Mr. Potter. You have no clue as to the help you’ll be giving me.” Harry nodded once more, “Headmaster,” he began shyly, “Do you have the standards so I may start preparing for the year? And might I have lists of the other Professors, the students, the Gryffindor’s dorm requests, and the heads and prefects?” McGonagall smiled, pulling the papers out from her long robes.  
“I would never come unprepared, Mr. Potter,” she smirked, one eyebrow cocked, “I do suppose you’ll be able to organize the dorms and your class listings before the start of term?”  
“I’ll have them done and sent to you soon. When do the Professors arrive at Hogwarts?”  
“I’ll floo you in when it is time, Mr. Potter. For now, I suggest you get started. It’s much more work than I let on,” she winked. Harry could not help but to laugh at his old Head of House.  
“I’ll be glad to.”  
“Mr. Potter, I’m sorry, but I have to be off. Time to talk to Ravenclaw’s head.”  
Harry nodded to his Professor, walking to escort her to the floo. She smiled at he chivalrous student, stepping into the ashes. She gave him a curt nod and grabbed some of the fine green powder.  
“Oh, and Professor?”  
“Yes Mr. Potter?”  
“Thank you.”  
“Whatever for?”  
“For giving me a purpose.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry found himself absolutely transfixed by McGonagall’s lists throughout the summer. Rosie had not seen him so alive in all of the time that she had been watching over him. He was on his feet more and more, walking around as he worked out schedules and plans in his head. He read through the course books and began highlighting sections for each year to begin on. The library had clothes lines strung across from wall to wall. Seven lines in total. Harry clipped the lesson plans for the year for each of the seven years along the lines, mapping out the term.  
He grinned at his work, proud of his successful organizational skills. He knew he had to have inherited something from his mother beside her eyes. He had even made a diorama of the new Gryffindor lay-out so he could visualize his arrangements. The first years, as always were placed into a large dorm with beds for all of them. There were five arranged in the dorm, seeing as they weren’t sure as to who would be staying there with a separate yet identical dorm for girls.  
Then, the second year dorms had the same layout. He placed the boy who was requested the most as a dorm mate in the center bed. The two he requested on either side of him. Then placed the remaining two boys against the wall next to the boys they were most compatible with. Same went for the girls.  
The third year students were also fairly easy to arrange. Four to a dorm. Two on each side. The students had already figured out their pairings for him, thank goodness. The same went for the fourth years.  
Fifth years were a bit harder to organize. This was the year when they would be partnered off-two per room. The dorm schedule overlapped a bit and took a while to go through. The sixth years seemed to have their partners arranged, just as the third and fourth years. Harry figured they were staying with their partner from the previous year. The seventh years had individual dorms as a part of easing them into independence.  
Harry was proud of his organizational skills. He used a spell to flatten out the diorama to a 2D configuration. Then, he rolled up the parchment like a poster and placed it into a protective sheath. The sheath and parchment were then shrunk to the size of an envelope. Harry smirked at his work and took it up to the attic, where he had a makeshift owlery. He now owned three owls, whom stayed in the attic with Rosie’s two owls (one for work and one for personal reasons).   
The Savior looked over the owls whom were present, Rosie’s personal owl, Fabian, his own personal owl, Demetri, and his work owl, Penny. He knew that Rosie’s work owl, Marcus, was probably reporting on him somewhere or else seeing to her arrangements for Hogwarts. His other personal owl, Raya, was taking a letter to Neville. He wanted to warn his friend before showing up at Hogwarts seemingly unannounced.   
His green eyes picked out Penny, the screech owl with dark feathers, and handed her the small poster. “To Headmaster Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts, please Penny,” he requested, handing her a biscuit. The owl eyed the poster with yellow globes before squawking at Harry in understanding and taking off. He watched her leave, making sure she made it through the wards unharmed. Then, he made his way back down to the library to begin organizing the prefect and head of house schedule. He had not been so happy in years.  
Rosie watched Harry as he worked, casting charms to ease his headaches as she saw them come or to fix his glasses when he would scratch at them unconsciously. Her brown eyes hardly ever left his form. She watched him with an almost unwavering awe, as though the sight before her would soon disappear, which she feared might actually happen. It was good to see her charge finally well again. It reminded her of the stories she had heard and the boy she had admired from afar during her school days.   
Harry was two years younger than herself and from another house, but no one in Hogwarts was able to pass through without hearing the boy’s name. She had been enchanted by him since his recovery from the Quidditch incident in his second year. However, not for the reasons that most girls were. She was not attracted to the younger boy. No, she did not favor his-type-so to speak. However, she was enchanted by the boy’s utter endurance. His ability to heal, to overpower curses and spells alike, his ability to survive. It had awakened her inner healer, and lead her to her true calling. For that, she would be eternally indebted to the boy.  
She watched him, now, wondering if this was his calling. To look over those with less ability than him. To teach his abilities to the younger generation. To help save lives from the very roots of their existence. Her grin would not fade as she watched her charge, saving his work with preservation charms that he forgot and simple spells that would keep the clotheslines from unhooking. What would he do without me?  
Harry watched as the work slowed and slowed before him as he finished. He looked around the room, and found the seven classes were fully organized. With a wave of a wand, he accioed an unmarked book. The raven haired man opened to the first page and used his quill to mark First Years Defense Against the Dark Arts 2004-2005. Then he opened to the second page and held the book open under the first clothing line. Another flick of his wand and the clothing line disappeared into the pages of the book, his plan appearing on the pages. He flipped through and found that the book had been fully organized just as he had thought. Harry placed the book down on his desk and accioed the next one, repeating the above for the rest of the seven years. In the end, all of his organization for his class sat in a set of seven books.  
Next, Harry took the schedules for the prefects and organized them onto a cork board. The schedule showed when which of the prefects should be patrolling which area of the castle. It had taken him a good week to perfect the schedule so no student would be overtaxed, alone, or with the same partner during the week. He shrunk the board down to the size of the books and moved on to the Headboy and Headgirl information. He had set a schedule for the two in regards to house meetings, tutoring sessions, and house activities. He set the schedule on a cork board for them and shrunk it down as well. Then, he set up a poster board for the two. He transferred the rules of the house onto the poster board, which would hang in the heads’ common room. He shrunk it to the size of the others. Then, he made their pamphlet books, which would allow them to report on students by filling them out, then signing their name. By signing their name, they would make the report official, and it would be sent to Harry’s own book, titled House Infractions. This way, communication would be immediate between the heads and their Head of House. Harry was proud of his work. He fit everything neatly into his trunk.  
Harry had finally finished preparations for the school year. He could not wipe the excitement from his face at dinner with Rosie and Luna that night. It was the last Wednesday before he would be leaving, after all, so he had felt Luna deserved a full night with him with a proper dinner and such.  
“I’m happy for you, Harry,” Luna said suddenly when the conversation lulled.  
“Thanks, Luna,” Harry smiled at the blonde.  
Luna let her eyes show her smile as she continued, “I was getting worried for you, you know. Always being cooped up in here. Plus, I heard the nargles at the school have been quite lonely without you or I around. No one else seems to believe they exist.”  
“I’ll be sure to tell them that you’ve been thinking about them,” Harry winked.  
Luna nodded curtly, “And ask for my shoes back, if you would, it has been years, now.”  
Harry smiled at Luna, “Of course, Luna,” he would miss her during the year.  
“Say Harry,” Luna looked serious, “Don’t get into trouble, all right? The wackspurts will tell me if they’ve been paying visits to your head again, you know. Plus, I’d definitely want you to be teaching my children one day. Can’t have you disappearing before they’re old enough.”  
“I’ll do my best, Luna.”  
“Harry Potter,” Luna threatened.  
“All right, all right, I won’t get into trouble,” Harry surrendered, hands in the air. Luna leveled a look at him, “On purpose, at least,” he winked. Luna sighed at her friend, knowing that was the best she was going to get from him.  
Harry got more visitors in his last week at home than he had for the year. Seamus and Dean had come Monday. Cho had seen him Tuesday. Of course, Luna came on Wednesday. Then he had a surprise visit from Neville on Thursday, who confirmed that he held nothing against Harry and that he had only been spending time with Ginny while he could. He was actually glad that Harry had taken on the Head of House position, as he did not care to have so much responsibility. It was a relief to Harry, who wanted to avoid drama at the castle as much as possible. On Friday, Rosie’s family came to visit them. Harry was honored that they would let Rosie come with him. Of course, they would never admit how much they hated their little girl going away again. Saturday, however, was another thing altogether.  
Hermione had written to Harry Saturday morning, after finally reading his letter from months before. He was to be leaving for Hogwarts on Monday, and Hermione just could not let him go without seeing her best friend. After all, they had spent a decade together, that had to mean something.  
She had to drag Ron out of the house, baby cradled in her arms, but they were at Harry’s by one, as promised. The group of five sat around Harry’s picnic table in his gardens. Rosie just loved the gardens. It was where she grew most of the ingredients needed for her healing potions, and Harry loved that the gardens were always in full bloom thanks to her. They were enchanting.  
“So Harry,” began Hermione awkwardly, flicking her eyes to Ron in a way that reminded Harry of when she had to speak for Ron in fourth year due to the red head's stubbornness, “What made you decide to become a professor?”  
Harry smiled at the conversation starter, wanting badly to chat with his friends as he had once been able to. “Well, Hermione, I had figured that if I couldn’t be an Auror, Defense was still the way to go for me, so I had taken it up at a University nearby. They let me take my classes from home, mostly, just showing up for midterms and such. I graduated with honors, and with a option for teaching in the subject. As you may know, Hogwarts suffered the loss of a wonderful Professor, Professor Rubeus Hagrid, may he rest in peace. Headmaster McGonagall came to me and asked if I could take over the Defense class and position as Head of Gryffindor House. You see, the Defense teacher had been Professor Jordan Locke, a former Hufflepuff student several years ahead of us. However, with Hagrid’s death, Locke became the Transfiguration teacher, as she had double majored in college. Then, the former Transfiguration teacher, Professor Justin Finch-Fletchy became the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, as he had also double majored in college. Thus, they had a spot open for Defense, and I was the most qualified suitor. McGonagall offered me the position as well as position as Head of Gryffindor, as Neville did not want to take up the charge. Hence my new employment.”  
Hermione nodded, taking it all in, but Ron seemed lost. Hermione sent him a sympathetic look that seemed to say she would explain to him later. “Well, mate,” Ron stretched, “How do you suppose you’ll be able to keep up with all of the work? You’ve not been in a very good state since the war, after all. Ow!” Hermione turned back to Harry, ignoring her husband’s exclamation at her slap. He pouted and looked over to Rosie for sympathy, but the girl only shrugged her shoulders, letting her plaits fall over the baby’s face in front of her before brushing them away carefully. Rose hardly seemed to mind.  
Harry just laughed at his friend’s bluntness, trying not to read between the tense lines. “Well, I’ve already organized the whole year. Hermione, you’d be proud. Here, let me show you,” Harry grinned, standing and leading the group into his living room. His trunk was set at the end of the couch. He levitated the box to the center of the room and opened it up, showing neat stacks of books and boards. He levitated out the stack of seven books. Each was a deep red color. The front of each book had a number on the front in gold lettering. He grabbed the book marked one and opened it up, showing it to Hermione.  
“You see, I’ve organized an entire year’s worth of lessons into the books. This one is for first years. The other six are for the second years, third years, and so on. Each lesson plan has a number line along the side. At the end of the lesson, based on how I feel the students are comprehending the information, I will rank the class. One being that they are having a lot of difficulties and ten being that they were breezing through the concepts. The number will give me the homework that would be most suitable for their comprehension level for the specific lesson. This would also let me individualize the homework to students who were having more trouble than their peers, or who seem to be getting far ahead.” At this he gave Hermione a knowing look and she blushed.   
“This is brilliant, Harry.”   
“Thank you, thank you,” he playfully bowed to his friends, “There are some other things I have organized. Dioramas for the dorms, schedules for the prefects and else, but I figured these would impress you the most.”  
“Well I am thoroughly impressed,” Hermione grinned, “It seems you’ve found your calling, Professor Potter,” Hermione teased.  
“Oh god, don’t call me that, that sounds much too old for me.”  
“What do you expect the children to call you? Just Harry?”  
“Worked well enough for everyone else, didn’t it?”  
“Oh come on, Harry,” Hermione laughed.  
“I guess I could get used to it. It’s still weird when you say it, though,” Harry smiled at his friend. It did not go unnoticed by him that Ron was paying little mind to their conversation. Harry felt a pang in his chest, but said nothing, preferring to keep the mood light.  
“Do you suppose, Harry, that you’ll be okay there?” Hermione asked quietly.  
Harry smiled sadly, “I’ll have Rosie, here,” he sent her a trusting look, “And I feel better than I have in years, Hermione. I finally have a purpose again. And it’s not fighting a lunatic. It’s not being the martyr. I can just, help people, you know? It feels amazing.”  
“I’m glad it does, Harry. You deserve to feel happy after all you’ve been through.”  
The mood fell into a sort of heavy silence after that and before he knew it, Ron and Hermione were taking Rose through the floo, with promises to write. Harry felt his shoulders slump when they finally disappeared, and he walked over to his trunk, packing it back up and closing it. A thought occurred to him.  
“Rosie, do you have plans for tomorrow?”  
“None besides packing.”  
“Well, finish up that packing tonight, but forget the clothes. Tomorrow, I’m going to take you shopping for some nice robes and scrubs. I want you to know how much you mean to me, Rosie, you’ve been a faithful friend through everything.”  
“Oh, Harry, I couldn’t.”  
“Oh come on. You take care of me everyday for little more than a room, meals, and a light paycheck. You deserve this. Let me take you shopping, please?” Harry pleaded with his dark-toned nurse.  
“Oh all right, Harry,” she finally gave in, “If only to keep you from buying something hideous.”  
Harry rolled his eyes at her, but remained smiling. He couldn’t wait for the school year to start. Just one more day, he thought, Just one more day and you’ll be back home where you belong.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry found himself speechless when he exited the floo. It was Monday and he had been summoned by McGonagall to the castle. He had put on a nice set of robes and combed through his ever-ragged hair that morning in addition to his normal routine. He noticed that Rosie was very confident in a set of new robes as well, the gold designs really brought out the sparkle in her eyes. Harry had taken his trunk in one hand, which has his supplies, robes, and three shrunken owl cages inside. His owls would fly to Hogwarts of their own accord. He had promised to meet them in the owlery later on. For now, he had been focused on getting to the Headmaster’s office promptly.   
The office was the same size and shape that he remembered, but it was so different. The various oddities that had been Dumbledore’s collections had disappeared from the room, replaced by loads of books and some intricate ledges that Harry supposed were for McGonagall’s animagus form more than for the headmistress before him. The room glowed a soft golden hue, as sunlight leaked through the windows. Most differently was the large portrait of one Professor Dumbledore which hung from the wall opposing the floo. Harry gave a quick nod to the portrait, who winked at the raven-haired man. Then, Harry turned to the Headmaster’s desk.  
McGonagall was eyeing him warily, as if sizing up her earlier decisions on the new Professor. Harry moved to sit in front of her, stretching a hand out to her first, “Good morning, Headmaster McGonagall. It is nice to see you,” Harry smiled at his former head of house.  
“Oh Potter, come here,” she smiled, standing to hug him.  
Harry chuckled and embraced his old professor, “It’s nice to have you back, Mr. Potter.”  
“It’s nice to be back, Miss.” Harry heard a soft thud and saw Rosie climb out of the floo.  
“Well, goodmorning Miss Gale. It’s nice to see you again,” McGonagall smiled at the taller nurse.  
“Likewise, Headmaster,” she curtsied slightly, to which McGonagall smiled.  
“Go on to the Hospital Wing, darling, Madame Pomfrey will be expecting you. Go ahead and leave your bags here. I’m sure the house-elves can manage without your help,” Minerva smiled, causing the younger witch to blush.  
“Yes ma’am,” she curtsied once more, heading off to the Hospital Wing.  
“Now Mr. Potter,” she said, sitting at her desk and gesturing for Harry to take a seat, “I received the dorm plans. Might I say, your ability to condense such information magically is exquisite. You must have had a brilliant Transfiguration professor,” she winked.  
“The best,” Harry smiled, without hesitation.  
“Your plans have already been put to use and everything is organized as such. You will find that your room is actually beneath the stairs to the dormitories. There is a loose railing that if you turn twice clockwise and then thrice counterclockwise will open the door to your chambers. They should conform to your liking, but should you need help with the furniture or otherwise, a transfiguration expert is always right here for you,” she smiled. “Now, I suppose you have made plans for the year?”  
“Actually, I think I’m just going to wing it, Professor.”  
“You can’t be serious, Potter? These are children! They need structure and proper-  
Harry found himself unable to hold back his laughter, which lead to his former professor slitting her eyes at him.  
“Oh, Potter, very funny. Now, could I see your preparations?” Harry nodded at the request and moved his trunk in front of him. First, he pulled out the seven books, laying them in front of Minerva so they were facing her one through seven from left to right. Then, he brought out the prefects schedule and enlarged it to proper size, quickly charming it to float at his right side. Then, he brought out the schedule for the Head Boy and Head Girl, enlarged it, and enchanted it to parallel the prefect schedule on his left side. Finally, he pulled out the pamphlets and the joint book of his own. These he enchanted to float in front of the schedules, the larger book in the middle and the pamphlets to the sides.   
When he had finished, McGonagall began a careful examination of the information provided. Harry gave the same explanation of the lesson plan books to McGonagall, who was just as impressed as Hermione was. Then, she was even more excited by the schedules, noting that Hagrid had never had a way with order. Finally, the pamphlets won Harry plenty of praise from his new superior, who claimed the idea was ingenious. She asked his permission before making identical copies for the other three houses.  
“Mr. Potter, I cannot hide how grateful I am for you. Honestly, keep this up, and you’ll never escape this school.”  
“I’d never want to,” Harry shrugged, a smile permanently on his face.  
With that, Harry regathered his possessions and readied to leave. “Headmaster, did you say where Rosie’s room was?”  
“I assumed you’d want her nearby, yes?” To this, Harry only nodded at his former professor. “Good, I had her room added to the girl’s side of the staircase. Twist the pole opposite yours twice counterclockwise then thrice clockwise to open her door. It should also meld to her desires. Anything else, Potter?”  
“Password?” Harry asked with a lopsided smile.  
“You can pick the password, pass it on to me and to your Head Boy, Girl, and prefects. The Fat Lady will be awaiting your word, first. There will be a staff meeting at lunch in the Great Hall. 12:30. Be early.” McGonagall smiled. Harry nodded and exited the door, excited to take on his first duty as Head of Gryffindor House.  
Harry hardly noticed the walk to the portrait. When he reached the Fat Lady, she nearly fainted in delight.  
“Oh Harry Potter! It has been far too long! Minerva told me that you would be returning this year, and as a professor no less! I can remember back when Minerva first started as a Professor here. Such a brave girl. Always was, you know? And then that boy-  
Harry cleared his throat, effectively silencing the portrait, “It is very good to see you again, Ma’am. I have been elected the Head of Gryffindor House this year, you know. It seems that I get to choose the password.”  
“What an honor! To be given the password by The Chosen One himself! Oh I just might faint!”  
“No, uhm, please, don’t?” Harry asked awkwardly, “I’ve an idea on what to choose. Tell me what you think. What about Magnae Felicitates?” Harry questioned.  
“Great happiness, how pleasant, but I fear it may be a bit complicated for the little ones. Try simple, but odd.”  
“Devil’s Snare?” Harry suggested.  
“Now you’re thinking too common, m’boy. Try something different. Look inside yourself. What do you want the children to remember from this term?”  
“Novam Domum,” Harry decided, setting his jaw.  
The Fat Lady smiled, “New Home. How fitting, Mr. Potter. Perfect.” with that, she let the Professor through, and he began setting things up. First, he brought his trunk into his room. Then, he took out the poster and various schedules from his trunk and headed back to the common room.  
He set up the prefects schedule and the tutoring sign-ups on the empty wall by the entrance. He then set up another large cork board, titled Club Sign-Ups. He posted a few lists based on what information he had received from McGonagall as of yet, but left plenty of room for other clubs. Harry put up an empty list, titled Quidditch Try-Outs. Underneath the title it read, lead by Michael Brown, who McGonagall had named the Quidditch captain that year.   
Harry set up a box with a slit in the top. The title simply said Anonymous House Complaints. It was a version of a Bully Box that Harry had heard about in the muggle world. This way, the children could fill out a complaint on a piece of paper, place it into the box, and Harry could fix the issues. The children would feel safe in their anonymity. Harry stepped back from the area, smiling proudly at his work.  
Next, Harry made his way to the Head Boy and Girl’s chambers. It was at the top of the tower. Their chambers were arranged sort of like a small flat. Upon entrance, one would find the common area, complete with a couch and two large chairs, a fireplace, some desks, and a large bookcase. Then, there was the kitchen area, which had a fridge that was stocked with food appropriate for the time of day, in case the Heads could not find time to make it to a meal. There was a small dining table just beside the kitchen area with two chairs and a simple tablecloth, which Harry felt the need to transfigure into a more elegant, silk cloth of deep red. Harry hung the special poster on the wall above the fireplace, then placed the schedules above the desks, each receiving a copy of each schedule. He placed a pamphlet on each of the desks and smiled. Perfect. On his way out, Harry told the enchanted lion and lioness knockers that the password was “Fidus Amicus” before heading downstairs.  
Once in the common room, he cast a quick Tempus and saw that it was already noon, so he headed out to the Great Hall, only casting a quick straightening charm over his robes. He found the walk to the Great Hall relaxing. He relived his many moments walking same way with Ron and Hermione, or Neville, or Seamus and Dean. The Professor could not have been happier when he entered the hall.   
He found McGonagall was already inside. To her immediate right was Marietta Edgecomb, Head of Ravenclaw House. Harry noted the scars still present on her forehead, remembering her betrayal of Dumbledore’s Army. He clenched his jaw slightly at her. Beside Edgecomb was Professor Binns, History of Magic. The ghost made no move to look at Harry as he walked towards them. There was an open spot between Binns and Professor Babbling, Ancient Runes and another on the opposite side of Babbling, at the end of the staff table.   
To McGonagall’s left, there was first Professor Sinistra, Astrology. Next sat Justin Finch-Fletchley, Head of Hufflepuff House. Beside him were two empty seats. Next was an unrecognizable woman. Finally, after two more empty seats, Draco Malfoy, Head of Slytherin House sat at the other end of the staff table. Harry moved to meet Draco’s eyes and found the blond was already giving him a once over, trying to figure out Potter’s motivation in arriving at the school. Harry was forced to remember the last time he had seen Malfoy.  
It was a day just as any other. The war had ended with the Battle of Hogwarts, just two months prior, but the Ministry was still combing through the wizarding world, getting rid of the stubborn knots of Voldemort’s ranks and sympathizers. Harry had been called into more than one courtroom to speak for or against various people. This time, though, was different.   
This time, it was Draco Malfoy.  
Harry was early that day. While the hearing was officially scheduled for noon, Harry had arrived at ten. He checked into the proper places and gone down to the courtroom. Imagine his shock when the trial had already begun, despite his absence.  
“Excuse me, Judge,” Harry snapped when he walked in, silencing whatever argument was currently being waged, “Why was I not informed of the change in time?”  
The judge flushed, but Harry would not look away. He would not give the man the respect of clearing his embarrassment. “Well?”  
“It was an emergency, Mister Potter, Sir,” he stuttered.  
“I’m sure it was. Since it was such an emergency,” the Savior snapped at the judge, “I’m sure that an emergency witness will be necessary?”  
The judge looked completely confused. Harry would not let his gaze leave the man as he called out, “Hermione Granger. Please come to the stands.”  
The curly-haired witch hurried herself up to the stands, relieving Rita Skeeter, whom Harry had no inclination of allowing back onto the stands. The raven-haired man walked in front of the stand, never breaking eye contact with the judge.  
“I’m sure you’re fine with this, considering?” Harry smirked at the man, who could only nod in Harry’s direction.  
“Miss Granger,” began the Chosen One, “How do you know the defendant, Draco Malfoy?”   
“From school, we’re in the same year.”  
“How would you describe your relationship to Draco Malfoy?”  
“We were Friendly Acquaintances, schoolmates and sometimes partners for projects, but never friends.”  
“Great, so no close ties that may allow you to be persuaded by Malfoy, but also close enough to know him.-  
“Objection, leading the witness.”  
“Strike that from the minutes. Potter, stay with fact.”  
“Sorry, sir. Miss Granger,” Harry smiled darkly at her, “Has Draco Malfoy ever directly or indirectly caused you physical harm?”  
“No, sir.”  
“Miss Granger, has Draco Malfoy ever attempted or succeeded in protecting you from physical harm?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Miss Granger, under what circumstances did Draco Malfoy protect you from physical harm?”  
“I was hunting for Voldemort’s horcruxes when I was kidnapped, along with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, by a group of Snatchers who were working for Voldemort. They brought us to Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort and his followers were living at the time. I had been able to disguise Harry with some simple charms and we gave fake names. The Snatchers couldn’t identify us. Bellatrix Lestrange ordered Draco Malfoy to identify Harry, though Harry was concealed at the time. I have every reason to believe that Draco Malfoy knew it to be Harry Potter, yet he lied to buy us more time.   
“Later, during our capture at the Manor, we would manage to break out of the dungeon with the help of a House-Elf named Dobby. We had to fight several deatheaters, Bellatrix Lestrange among them,” Hermione added, knowing the name to have significance amongst the court, “Draco wouldn’t fight us, not fully. Rather, he pretended to duel with Harry, and Harry easily won Draco’s wand, allowing us the opportunity to escape. I’m afraid if Draco Malfoy had fought us, we would not have survived that night,” Hermione finished.  
“Thank you, Miss Granger. That will be all.” Harry dismissed her.  
Before the judge could speak another word, Hermione spoke up, “I call Mr. Harry Potter to the stand,” Harry shot the judge a warning look as he walked to the stands, taking Hermione’s place. His green eyes scanned the room before locking on a pair of gray eyes that were watching him with pain and sorrow. Harry had to lift that look from him.  
“Mister Potter, how would you describe your relationship to Draco Malfoy?”  
“Draco Malfoy was the first wizard I met of my own age. My rival throughout school, Draco and I have dueled together, fought together, and played together. The closest word I can think is my friend. Even if we were not always on the best of terms.” Harry’s eyes never left Draco’s.  
“Mister Potter, has Draco Malfoy ever tried or succeeded in hurting you physically?”  
“No, unless you count duels during Defense Against the Dark Arts, when we were first learning offensive spells.”  
“Mister Potter, has Draco Malfoy ever prevented you from being hurt?”  
“Yes, he has.”  
“Could you give an example of when Draco Malfoy did this?”  
“Certainly. There was the time when I was kidnapped by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor, which you have already described.   
In first year, Draco Malfoy attempted to protect me by offering his friendship. I refused the offer, but it never stopped Draco from attempting to show me what he thought was right.  
In second year, Draco Malfoy tried to expel the rumors around the school that claimed I was the heir of Slytherin, while people from my own house tried to spread said rumors.   
In third year, during Care of Magical Creatures, we were studying a Hippogriff. I had just climbed off of the animal when it began to buck. I had turned just as Draco stepped forward to the beast, taking the attack on himself.   
In fourth year, I was put into the Triwizard Tournament against my will. Maybe no one else noticed, but Draco Malfoy had whispered a spell as I passed him, while I was exiting the lake after the Second Task. I was the only one that felt the warming charm on my towel and the only one who was likely saved pneumonia because of it. At least, I stopped trembling.  
In fifth year, Professor Dolores Umbridge was titled High Inquisitor at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy joined the Inquistrial Squad under her command. When my friends needed to make an escape, Draco Malfoy left the room, leaving his less intelligent friends to watch them. They were easily tricked, as Draco would not have been. He has the second-highest scores in the entire school, as you may know. He wouldn’t have left the room if he wanted to keep them there. Without them, I don’t know how many more would have been killed during the Battle at the Department of Mysteries.  
In sixth year, Draco Malfoy was given impossible tasks by Voldemort himself. Draco Malfoy was forced to take the Dark Mark. Draco Malfoy had his life and the lives of all those he cared about threatened. Draco Malfoy was only sixteen. Yet, he weakly protested the requests, never really trying. I fought him, that year, but he refused to fight me really. He just defended himself from my spells. I nearly killed him that day, but he never moved to do the same, even after the fact. He was ordered by Voldemort to kill Albus Dumbledore, but, when placed in front of said man, Bellatrix Lestrange commanding him to kill in his ear, surrounded by deatheaters that will kill him and his family if he didn’t follow through with his orders, Draco Malfoy lowered his wand.   
In seventh year, while trapped at Hogwarts with torturous deatheaters as Professors, Draco Malfoy kept his head up and the younger years calm. Draco Malfoy stood in front of the Dark Lord, on our side, and refused to cross to his own parents. Draco Malfoy would have died fighting against Voldemort, until he saw I had died. Draco Malfoy had no reason to believe he would survive fighting Voldemort. Imagine, a seventeen year old having to fight to kill his own parents, aunts, uncles, friends, cousins. It’s sick.  
Draco Malfoy tried his hardest at every turn to help our side fight, despite how far his parents pulled him in the opposite direction. Draco Malfoy was never really a Death Eater. Draco Malfoy is an unsung hero of the war.”  
“That will be all, Mr. Potter.”  
Draco Malfoy had been found innocent on all charges. Harry had not stayed to congratulate him. The Savior of the Wizarding World had done all he could do, for the only person that ever really mattered. Admitting all of it to the world, that had been what triggered his mental issues. The green-eyed teen could never get a grip on that whirring feeling in his chest. His confusion had pushed him over the edge. And it was all because of Draco Malfoy.  
Harry had never been so elated to share a room with someone in his entire life, even if they were separated by the entire staff.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry found that it was hard to concentrate on meetings when there was an elephant in the room. His green eyes watched blankly as Neville Longbottom filled in the empty space between Binns and Babbling. Then, he watched two female professors take the empty seats by Draco. Finally, after another female sat beside Justin, the meeting could come to order. Seven minutes before the scheduled time, Harry noted.

McGonagall was simple in her leadership during the meetings. She outlined the house rules, made sure that the heads had made and sealed the passwords, collected said passwords, and then moved on to the school year. She set up a master timetable for classes that hung in front of the staff as she talked. After explaining the schedule, she handed each professor a smaller version of the schedule.

“Now professors, you may find that there are certain students who qualify for your advanced classes, but have not chosen to take them or have been otherwise removed from the class. You may also find students that did not quite meet the prerequisites that are in your class. These cases have been discussed with the student, the parents, and myself. Any questions can be asked of me during my office hours. My password this year will be rotating on a weekly basis. The current password can be found on your desks in your offices in the fifth floor corridor.

“To the Heads of Houses, please keep in mind that the students who have asked for too many classes for their available course load may, given extreme circumstances, be awarded with a short-term time turner for the term. While I have your attention, the schedule for the Quidditch pitch has been arranged. You will find in your chambers the existing schedule. If you wish to add time for your team to practice, I ask that you simply write in the time slot you wish to request, and I will receive note and approve or deny the request. That is all. Let us eat,” McGonagall sat back in her chair and a small feast lay before them.

Harry took only a helping of salad and a cherry tart. He watched out of the corner of his eye, hoping that Draco would wait for him to finish. Then, maybe, he could speak to the man he had defended all those years ago. However, he found that more often than not his eyesight was blocked by the witch who sat beside Draco, who gave Harry flashbacks of Pansy Parkinson the way she hung over Malfoy. The Boy Who Lived just couldn’t eat fast enough.

He finished his helping in a whir, yet still managed to appear civil and use basic table manners. His raven hair was the first to rise above the others, who were still crouched over their plates. “Excuse me, I do have much to put together before the students arrive tonight.” He apologized. With a polite nod, McGonagall dismissed her newest Professor from the staff table and returned to her chicken.

Harry was almost out the door when he heard a cool, yet polite, tone request to be excused from the table. Claiming that he still had duties as Head of Slytherin that he must attend to. The green-eyed boy was nearly beside himself with excitement. He exited the Great Hall and let the doors shut behind him. Then, he simply moved to the side of the doors and waited for the blond.

“Potter,” Draco snapped as he walked through the heavy doors.

The Chosen One merely looked up at Draco, innocent green eyes meeting cool steel. “Hello to you, too, Malfoy. Good to see you haven’t changed.”

The blond merely rolled his eyes at his banter, “Look, Potter, what are you doing here? I’ve made up for my crimes. I’ve repented. Have you come here just to ruin it all?”

“What? No, Malfoy, I haven’t come here to punish you. In fact, I was hoping to get to know you. After all, we haven’t even spoken since...since...well, you remember.”

“We didn’t even speak then. I thought for sure that you had somehow forgiven me from all that you said on the stand, yet you left immediately. You didn’t even stay to watch me freed. I thought things changed that day in the Room of Lost Things. You had saved me...I, I thought…”

“Things did change that day, Malfoy. I wanted to be there for you, but I didn’t think you’d want me to be. Besides, you know that I haven’t exactly been the picture of mental health. I had a hard time that day. I went home and couldn’t speak to anyone. Lord knows how much Ginny resented that trial. I think I was incoherent for another week. The longest I had spoken since the war was during your trial, that little speech. It’s hard for me, Malfoy, harder than you’d ever realized.”

“Whatever, Potter. You could have at least let me thank you.”

“You still can, you know.”

“I suppose I could.”

“Well, you’re welcome, for what it’s worth.”

“Thank you.”

Those words would start one of the most awkward truces that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever seen. Harry and Draco gave a quick, yet firm handshake to one another, then split off in separate directions. After all, they both really did have House Duties to attend to.

The Boy Who Lived found himself climbing the moving staircases just as he had done so long ago. To add to the similarities, he was brooding over his school-time rival, Draco Malfoy. What power did that Slytherin have over Harry, where he could so easily infiltrate his thoughts? Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Lived inside The Savior’s Head.

Harry did not have many more duties to attend to, so he went straight to his room. He unpacked his trunk the muggle way, in hopes of clearing his mind. He hung his robes in the closet, but placed his neatly folded slacks and shirts in dresser drawers along with his socks and undergarments. Then, he stacked his shoes along the closet floor, ranking from his nicest to his most casual pair. 

Next, Harry moved to make the chambers feel more like home. Across his dresser, Harry set up pictures of his friends. First he set the picture of Rosie and himself at the park, looking over the lake on the far left. Beside that, he set a picture of Luna throwing snowballs at Rolf, before turning and laughing into the camera. Centered on the dresser was a photo of Ron, Harry, and Hermione at Christmas time, sitting by the fire with matching Hot Cocoa mustaches. Beside that photo, Harry placed a picture of his godson, Teddy, who was swinging on the swing beside Victoire, Bill and Fleur’s daughter. On the far right, Harry placed a photo of his entire Hogwarts Graduating class, who threw their wands into the air. He watched as the mass moved, faces barely discernable. A wet stream down his cheek brought him back to reality. 

He took out the last pictures. One was of Lily and James, laughing and spinning together. Harry set this on the bedside table. The second was a picture of Remus and Sirius, from one of the Order Meetings. Sirius had been laughing so hard at one of Moony’s jokes that he had turned completely red. It made Harry’s heart burn to watch them. Still, he kept his eyes on them for several minutes, wishing yet again for history to be re-written.

Soon enough, Harry was hanging the posters he had accumulated over the years. They were all pictures of scenery that Harry had visited at one time or another. Some of the shots had been taken from his own pensieve memories. Others were simply all he could not fathom. He smiled at the assortment of seasons across his walls, hands on his hips in triumph. This could work.

Soon enough, though, the Professor was done decorating his chambers. He took out the stack of seven books of lesson plans and set them on his bed. Then, he shrunk his trunk and placed it in the top drawer of the bedside table. He levitated the stack of books in front of him, and made his way out to the fifth floor corridor. When he reached his office, which was at the far end of the hall on the right side, Harry set the books down on his desk and cast a quick Tempus. He found that he only had fifteen minutes before he was scheduled to report outside. All Heads of Houses were meant to wait at the gate for the arrival of the carriages, so they could escort their house into the castle and to the proper table. After all, the house tables switched order every year now.

Harry arranged the books along a shelf behind his desk. Then, he set out a neat row of five ink wells. Black, on the right, for notes, letters, etc. Red, next to the black, for corrections. Blue, next to the red, for edits to his lessons. Green, next to the blue, for annotations in his books. Gold, next to the green, for his signature. This well had a spell upon it that would only let the writer sign their legal name. 

Next, the professor placed hanging files in the desk drawers, which there were seven of on his left and four on his right. With a quick charm, he labelled the files in the seven drawers with the names of all of his students from Gryffindor for each year, then labeled the drawers based on year. The students arranged themselves alphabetically. On the right, each drawer was labelled as a separate house and each file was given the names of students from each house that were in his class that year. Harry smiled smugly, watching as the students arranged themselves first by year, then by name. His idea had worked just as planned. Realizing that he really did not have much time left, Harry left his office, locking it with a sturdy spell, and headed down to the castle’s entrance.

He was given a raised eyebrow by the Headmaster when he arrived, only three minutes to spare. However, since the witch who had been hanging on Draco during the staff meeting was behind him, Minerva’ s glare did not remain on him for long.

“All right, Professors. This year, the house tables go as follows from left to right: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff. Is that clear?” There were a chorus of agreements before the witch continued. “The students should be arriving soon. Heads of Houses, please make sure to speak to your Head Boy and Head Girl and your prefects to make sure they know the password to the dormitories and to the Head Commons for this year. Understood?” Another chorus rang out. “That is all for now. Malfoy, Edgecomb, Potter, and Finch-Fletchey. You shall line up in that order in front of the castle before entering, understood?” The four nodded. “Good. Locke, you will be taking roll as the students pass through the gates tonight. Longbottom, you will lead the first years to the boats. Actually, let’s have you and Reyes collect the first years. Sinistra, can I trust you to speak to the first years about the castle before they are brought in for sorting? Thank you. Everyone else, keep your eyes on the students. They are our top priority.” With that, they were dismissed.

Harry walked in time with the other Heads of Houses. They had arranged themselves in the order that they were meant to walk the students in. Harry felt a knot in his stomach at the awkward silence around them and, being the Gryffindor, felt he was the one who needed to end it.

“So, isn’t it a bit strange? Who would have thought that one day it would be us four leading the new generation of Hogwarts students?”

Justin laughed, “No I don’t suppose I ever thought I’d be teaching alongside you lot. Though I suppose it could be worse,” he joked, “I could always be teaching with the heir of Slytherin.”

This caught looks from both Draco and Harry, whom had been accused of being said heir, before Marietta joined the laughter and the two boys found they had to chuckle as well.

“Yes, and Harry,” Marietta said softly, “I never thought you’d stand near me again, let alone Head my neighbor house.”

Harry chuckled at her, “Well all that has gone and passed. Besides, you were under Veritaserum, weren’t you?” Marietta nodded, “Then don’t fret. I can’t hold that against you.”

Draco hung his head, “You’re talking about fifth year, right?”

“Well, my sixth year,” Marietta smiled, “But yes. Your guys’ fifth year.”

“Strange how that all worked out. Sorry again about your godfather, Harry,” Justin said awkwardly.

Harry felt a twinge in his chest, “Wasn’t very well your fault was it? All right, let’s move past it, look the children are coming.” To that, all of the professors smiled and waved to their students. Harry was excited to be able to meet them, though he knew he had half-giant shoes to fill.

The first group was a pack of Ravenclaw sixth years, who were quite taken with Marietta. She began talking to them animatedly about the new Charms that they would be exploring in their advanced charms class this coming year. Soon enough, every one of the Heads were speaking about their subject, Quidditch, or, in Harry’s case, about their life stories. Usually, it was hard for Harry to talk about his years at Hogwarts, but with the children, he was more alive than ever. Eventually, Malfoy cleared his throat and gestured to Locke, who informed them that all the students were accounted for. Harry stopped his story short with promises to finish the story of the Troll in the Dungeon in the common room that night. Then, the four Heads were off, their students trailing behind them in neat rows of two and Locke bringing up the rear.

When they entered the hall, the students gasped in awe. Harry listened as a few little voices peaked over the whispers. “It’s even better the second time around.” “Has it always been this big?” “The stars are brilliant tonight.” He smiled and continued forward to his new seat, directly in front of his table and on McGonagall’s left. Next to Harry, Justin sat in front of his table. Then, Marietta sat on McGonagall’s other side and Malfoy beside her. The students’ chatter rose dramatically as they found the proper table to sit at. They were speaking animatedly about the new Gryffindor Head, about Quidditch this season, and about some gossip they had not gotten to dish on the train. As they spoke, the other Professors save Professor Sinastra filtered in and took spots in front of their former houses and among their friends. When Binns finally floated over to his seat, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Harry watched as the herd of first years made their first steps into the hall. 

Their wide eyes and hushed voices were enough to convey what they were all thinking. They gathered in a lump at the side of the hall by the Slytherins. In front of the tables was a stool, on which lay a crumpled hat. Harry had flashbacks to his own sorting as he watched the hat come to life and begin to sing. Memories of fighting to be in Gryffindor, but watching Draco slip into Slytherin with ease filled his mind. In the end, he had gained nine first years, Hufflepuff received ten, Ravenclaw eight, and Slytherin another nine. Figures that they would be equal. 

It was after the sorting ceremony that McGonagall stood. She cleared her throat and the room silenced, as it once did for Dumbledore. Again, Harry felt his heart clench. 

“Students. This year marks the fifth anniversary of Hogwarts as it currently stands. While its foundations were built by founders long before our time, it was not too long ago that the castle had to be rebuilt. We here at Hogwarts strive not to forgive and forget what caused a great castle to crumble, but, rather, we choose to remember our past and embrace it. Never again will we allow horrors that the world has seen live on. Here we have peace. Here we have family. Here we have a home. 

“Now, the returning students may have noticed a new face up here at the staff’s table. We have had to hire a new Professor due to the loss of one of our own. Before he is introduced, let us take a moment of silence for our fallen Professor, Rubeus Hagrid, may he rest in peace.”

The students all bowed their heads in time with their professors. Harry felt tears slip onto his glasses, and whispered a quick scourgify to clean them off. 

“Now, due to our loss, Professor Finch-Fletchey has agreed to take over Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Locke will be taking over Transfiguration. Finally, for our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, we have one Mister Harry Potter. Harry-dear, could you stand up, please?”

The raven-haired man did as he was asked and stood. He looked over the students, who had fallen into a sort of hush. Then, the Gryffindor students, who had already had some time to get to know the Savior, began clapping and hooting, to which Harry blushed and sat down. The cheers did not stop, however, and McGonagall had to clear her throat twice more before the applause finally died down. 

“Yes, I do understand that Professor Potter is a bit of a celebrity. However, I personally know how much he hates to be treated as such. Therefore, I ask you not to pry into Mr. Potter’s life. If he feels comfortable sharing stories with you, then that is one thing, but I will not have you bothering him beyond when he is comfortable and certainly not during class. Those types of discussions are a purely outside-the-classroom deal, you understand?

“Alright, students. Remember to stay out of the Forbidden Forest and only venture into the lake if there is an adult supervising. Thank you. Let the feast begin.”


	5. Chapter 5

The feast went just as always and Harry located his Head Boy and Head Girl once he was done. They were not particularly stunning students, nor were they ugly. Rather, they seemed to blend in with everyone else. Dina Raphael, Head Girl, was average height for her age. She had sleek brown hair and light hazel eyes. Her olive skin complemented her soft features well. She stood proud next to her boyfriend, Thomas Alden, Head Boy. Thomas was short for his age, but still an inch taller than Harry, whose growth had been stunted by malnutrition in his youth. Alden had a short pile of black curls on his head and large brown eyes that nearly matched his skin. He also kept proper posture, but his gestures were far more flowing than his girlfriend’s. The Professor could not help but draw similarities to Ron and Hermione from the same time.

“Hello Miss Raphael, Mister Alden,” Harry congratulated himself on remembering their names when they both snapped to attention, uttering a polite greeting, “I’m your Head of House. It seems I didn’t get to talk to you earlier, so I’ll warn you now that I’ve added some things to your commons for your own benefit. If you want something changed or altered in anyway, you only have to ask. Now, come closer so the others don’t hear. The password to the common room is Novam Domum and the password to your commons is Fidus Amicus. Think you can remember that?” The two students nodded, grabbing each other’s hands out of habit. “All right. Any more questions, feel free to come to me. I’ll be stopping by your commons tonight around curfew just to give you a quick orientation on how things will be done this year. Now, I have to go talk to the prefects, so I’ll talk to you later,” he excused himself.

Then, Harry made his way towards a group of sixth years. Yasmin Brook was just a bit taller than her female classmates. She had lazy black waves for hair and piercing blue eyes. She contrasted her fellow Prefect, Emit Flyth, a tall honey-haired boy with soft green eyes, quite sharply. Harry noted that the two were close, but not together as he moved to speak to the duo. It was strange. Harry could remember when they were just first years back when he was in sixth year. How odd to now be their superior.

“Miss Brook, Mister Flyth, could I have a moment?” he asked nicely. The two stood and walked a yard away from the table to talk to their Professor. “I’m the new Head of House, as you know, I just wanted to make sure I’ve met you two. Now, there’s a schedule posted just inside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room for the prefects along with some bulletin boards for announcements, club sign ups, tutoring and all else. I wanted to let you know that I’ll always be available to you if you need me. There’s always a way to contact someone if you really need to,” Harry winked, “So, as long as there’s nothing else, the password to the common room is Novam Domum. Any questions?” The two shook their heads, “All right, then, I must talk to the others. Thank you.” With that, the Savior prepared for his last round of awkwardly talking to his new students.

He approached the fifth year prefects slowly. They were among the group he had been talking to about his adventures with the Troll. A smile crept across his face as he strode. Pippi Lewette was a petite redhead with lime green eyes. She was talking animatedly to the tall boy beside her. Harry identified him as Gavin McGee, the other fifth year prefect, judging by his tall stature, flipping brown hair and light blue eyes. Upon reaching the two, he cleared his throat awkwardly to get them to look up. Instantly, Pippi’s chattering stopped and her eyes flashed maliciously at the Professor before her.

“Are you here to finish the story?” she asked quickly, excitement dripping from her voice.

Harry laughed, “No, sorry, that’ll have to wait for the common room tonight. However, I do need to speak with you and Mr. McGee, here for a moment.”

“Are we in trouble, sir?” Pippi asked, standing up and holding a hand out for her much larger friend, who only pretended to use her help, as though boosting her confidence. 

“No nothing like that,” Harry dismissed the thought, “I just needed to tell you guys that the Prefect schedule has been hung on the wall just inside the entrance to the Common Room. There’s a few other things hanging, so don’t be afraid to check them out. Also, I’m always available if you know how to find me....uh there was something else….” Harry trailed.

“The password, sir?” Gavin asked, smiling lopsidedly as Harry often did.

Harry chuckled at himself, shaking his head, “Yes, of course. Okay, come close. It’s Novum Domum. Got that?” They nodded, backing to their original distance. “All right. I think that’s it. Go ahead and let everyone know I’ll be in the mood for telling stories an hour after dinner ends, all right?” Pippi nodded, her spastic curls bouncing with the motion. Harry gave another nod and then headed to the last person he needed to speak to.

Michael Brown was a broad-shouldered, tall-statured man. He was sixteen, but his hands were calloused like he had been doing manual labor for a decade. He had clipped brown hair and dark brown eyes that reminded Harry of Viktor Krum. He was muscular, a perfect build for a Gryffindor Beater. Harry approached him carefully, not wanting to upset his student. However, it was much harder for him to keep the excitement off of his face. When he had learned that it was his job to bestow the title of Quidditch Captain on the student, he couldn’t have been more proud. 

“Excuse me, Mister Brown, could I speak to you for a moment, please?” Harry asked, remembering the last time he had a close look at Michael’s face. It was Harry’s first year as Quidditch captain, and the first year had shown up to tryouts, determined to get on the team “just like Harry Potter did”. He could never admit how much that one phrase had meant to him. It was worth more than a thousand of Colin’s photos because it had been respect. Respect not for his name and not for his legend, but for his skills at Quidditch, something he could claim was all his own.

Michael had made backup seeker that year.

“What is it, sir? Have I done something wrong?” Michael asked, his American accent clearly sticking out.

“No, no Michael. I actually have some very good news for you,” Harry started, then shook his head. There was a way to say this properly, after all. “Do you remember, Michael, what it was you said to me back in your first year when you tried out for the Quidditch team?” Harry had his arm around Michael’s shoulders, and had walked him outside of the Great Hall for the moment. 

“I told you that I would work to make it onto the team that day. Just like Harry Potter did. I wanted to make Quidditch history, just like you had,” Michael admitted, flushing slightly out of embarrassment.

“Now, Michael,” Harry smiled, turning the boy so he was facing him in the hall, “You made it onto the team that year as a seeker. Sure, as a backup, but I mean, come on, I was the starting seeker,” Harry joked, “While I know that you’ve moved from the Seeker position to Beater, what would you say about following in my footsteps once again? Not as a seeker, but more directly I mean.” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure I quite get what you mean, sir?” Brown admitted, blushing still.

Harry smiled, stepping back a bit, “Well, you do recall that I was in my sixth year when you tried out, yes?” Michael nodded, eyes widening in anticipation, “You don’t mean?”

“Yes,” Harry chuckled, “You’ve been made Quidditch Captain of the Gryffindor team!” 

Harry found himself in a tight embrace, then was pulled back from it rather abruptly, “Excuse me, Harry-I mean, Professor- I have to go tell my friends.”

“Of course,” Harry dismissed him, smiling as he ran off. He hoped that he could make all of his students that happy by the time the term was out. Maybe sooner.

He shook his head and walked back into the Great Hall, watching as the people around Brown patted his back and cheered their pumpkin juice. Harry chuckled as he walked by, caught in memories of his own sixth year. 

That was when the next cheer broke out, and Harry turned to see a taller girl with brown curls and brown eyes burst through the entrance to the Great Hall and run to the Hufflepuff tables. “I got captain! I’m Quidditch captain! Head Girl and Quidditch Captain! How-?” And with that she fainted. Luckily, Hufflepuff’s Head Boy, a tall blond by the name of Xavier Nox caught her before she hit the ground. Justin Finch-Fletchy came into the room moment after and awkwardly helped Xavier pick her up and take her to the Hospital Wing. Harry made eye contact with McGonagall from across the room and saw she was shaking her head at the Hufflepuffs, but the tight line of her mouth let Harry know that she was struggling not to laugh at the spectacle herself.

Harry climbed up to his seat and sat down, waiting to see how the other captains would react to the news. He was beginning to wonder if he had already missed Slytherin and Ravenclaw when, suddenly, the floating candles began to rearrange themselves. His green eyes were trained on the candles mercilessly, watching as they began to take the shape of words.

DANI THOMPSON for RAVENCLAW

Harry watched as one of the students from Ravenclaw began eagerly shaking a girl with short, tight curls of brown and hazel eyes, who was stooped over a book. The girl looked up and moved to smack her annoyance when the other girl pointed upwards. The brunette followed her gesture and squealed when she read the candles.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she smiled greatly, with little decorum.

The Chosen One could not help but to grin like a Cheshire cat as the girl received high fives, fist bumps, and other congratulations from her classmates. Now there was only one group left. The Savior trained his eyes on the Slytherin table curiously. but found that the students hardly looked bothered by the wait. They sat in relative quiet. There were a few polite conversations being followed through delicately by the students. All were sitting straight, with napkins folded neatly in their laps. In fact, it sort of disturbed Harry how completely identical they all seemed. However, their varying physical features and pace of breathing kept Harry from claiming them all as robots. 

As he watched, a small bird made of delicate paper flew above the table. The students watched the animal carefully from the corners of their eyes, careful not to make a fuss over the intruder. The bird softly descended upon the shoulder of a short, stocky fellow. He made not a sudden movement, but a purposeful hand glided to the animal that perched upon him. The brunette boy carefully unfolded the paper, his deep brown eyes watching to be sure that the paper was not resisting. After reading the contents of the note, he turned his head and curtly nodded towards the staff table, certainly to a blond professor who was known for his flying notes.

Harry watched, intrigued, as the boy folded the paper back into a bird and cast a quiet spell over it. The note took flight once more and headed out of the Great Hall and in the direction of the dungeons. Once it had left, the boy turned to his classmates and calmly spoke a single sentence, for which he received several raised glasses in a toast, followed by a few handshakes from those around him.

It was very odd.

Potter did not have much more time to dwell on their behavior, however, because McGonagall stood soon after and wove her hands, effectively clearing the tables. “Now students, please mind your prefects and Heads of House. Breakfast shall be served between seven and nine-thirty tomorrow. Classes begin promptly at ten. You are dismissed.”

The Great Hall turned into a churning sea of black robes. Prefects from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff could be heard above the clamour, pleading for the students to follow. Ravenclaw had somehow slipped away in two stricts lines out of the side exits. Harry watched curiously as the Slytherin table stayed seated. Then, once the other students had fully left, the Head Boy and Girl and the four prefects stood. The youngest prefects began to lead the group. A line of females was made behind the short blond girl; a line of males queued behind the taller, raven-haired boy. The sixth-year prefects stood on the outside of the two lines at about their center point. The girl’s blonde ponytail bounced in time with her partner’s black curls. Then, bringing up the rear of the lines were the bobbed cut brunette and her male counterpart, tall fellow with tight black braids. 

“You should shut your mouth, Potter, before you let the flies in,” a sharp voice called from behind him.

Harry snapped his mouth closed quickly, before he could register who had spoken. Then, with a slight set to his jaw, he snapped “Oh shove off, Malfoy,” Harry rolled his eyes, turning to face the blond.

Draco smirked, “What, jealous? Slytherins have the best etiquette of the four houses, easily. Aren’t they brilliant?” Harry glared at his beaming coworker. “I didn’t even tell them to behave as they did. It’s just written in their DNA. They are fantastic. Did you see that bit during dessert? With the flying parchment? That was all my idea.”

 

“I recognized the handiwork,” Harry snarked back at the boastful blond.

“Oh don’t be petty, Potter. What? Did you have one too many mean notes passed to you during potions?” Draco teased, “Sorry I didn’t realize I was meant to be babying you.”

Harry glared at Draco once again, “You needn’t baby me, Malfoy. I’ll be the bigger person here and admit that your house is extremely well behaved,” this startled Malfoy into being quiet for a moment, “I would even go so far as to say they’re like perfect little robots,” Harry challenged his ex-rival.

“Whatever, Potter. We’ll see who’s laughing at the House Cup this year. Surprise to you, Dumbledore’s not here to award bonus points to make Gryffindor win anymore. Scared, Potter?”

“You wish,” Harry smirked, turning away from the blond and strutting out of the room in an attempt to out-Malfoy Malfoy. 

This year was stacking up to be quite interesting, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've posted the first five chapters today. I have the rest ready to post, but I will probably schedule them to post or post them as I get comments. Thank you so much for reading!


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